I knew I made the right decision last night when I found myself barely 10 feet away from Cherry Vanilla herself at a reading in the Coco de Mer on Elizabeth Street, hearing these very words.
Fresh off of a nationwide tour for her racy new collection of memoirs entitled Lick Me: How I Became Cherry Vanilla, the former Bowie publicist and front woman for The Police and The Cherry Vanilla Band recounted vicious tales of groupie debauchery to an intimate gathering of local publishing industry figures and assorted musicians (including The B-52's Kate Pierson) in the cozy Soho erotic luxury outfitter.
It's refreshing (sometimes) to be in your early twenties and think you know everything, only to have someone like Cherry come along and remind you, "All those nefarious little deeds you get up to every weekend? Well I did them first, and I did them better." She had us duly enthralled somewhere between graphic descriptions of David Bowie's emaciated, nubile body standing naked before her in the Presidential Suite of a Howard Johnson's and an epic ode to her tour bus days, a cathartic poem entitled A Groupie's Lament.
Gives us something to aspire towards - plus the shoe chair certainly didn't hurt either. So definitely be sure and pick up a copy of Lick Me: How I Became Cherry Vanilla at your local sex shop today...or on Amazon, whatever.
Post by Nicolas Sera-Leyva
